“Good. That’s the worst part of her powers.”
“What she did is still pretty bad,” I said. “Lady Whitefall took some of—her essence, I guess. She made herself immortal.”
“You can’t make yourself immortal,” said Ivy. “The Morrigan and a few death faeries, like banshees, are the closest to immortal you get these days.”
“But—when I was a baby, Lady Whitefall planned to use the Sidhe’s old immortality source on me. I’m part Summer and Winter faerie. She wanted to make me a queen, apparently. It might have been a lie. I mean, the source of immortality was destroyed a year ago. Even when you take into account Faerie’s messing with time, I lived there for at least three years.”
Ivy’s brow furrowed. “The source—it was removed from Faerie around the time of the invasion. It was hidden until a year ago. If your mother did plan to use it before, she might not have been able to find it. Even the Sidhe couldn’t. The Morrigan, though, the Courts themselves couldn’t destroy her. Her soul’s stuck on a loop. The miserable old bat.”
“She took someone I know,” I told her. “My best friend. Her body’s still alive, but her soul’s somewhere in Death.”
“She’s not dead?” Ivy frowned. “Someone told you that I can find her, didn’t they.”
“I—can you? I don’t want to ask, but I can’t lose her as well as Cedar.”
Ivy nodded. “Vance won’t be happy about me taking another trip over the veil again, but I can handle it because my magic feeds on death and lets me leave my body without dying. Like a necromancer, basically, except my magic’s originally from Winter… sort of.”
“Wait,” I said. “Feeds on death?”
“Death energy,” she corrected. “So does all Winter magic, come to that. Like Summer feeds on life. But mine’s bound to the death realm itself, both human and faerie. It’s sort of complicated.”
Complicated… like a god’s. Her talisman came from the Vale, too.
“Ivy,” I said. “Have you ever spoken to the faerie gods?”
Ivy stepped back. “Who told you that?”
“Nobody. It’s… my magic. I’m told my talisman’s not from the Courts at all.”
“Of course the bloody gods would be involved,” Ivy said under her breath. “Your talisman’s one of them?”
“Apparently,” I said. “According to the Hemlock witches. So is it possible to speak to whoever’s power it is? I mean, talk to the god?”
Ivy’s mouth pinched. “No. I mean, it’s possible, in the Vale, technically. If you try to speak to a god, you’ll need its name, at the very least, but I’m told there aren’t any of them left. The talismans only contain fragments of their power. I really wouldn’t try it.”
“Damn.” I sighed. “Just wanted to be sure.”
“I’d concentrate on stopping Lady Whitefall first,” said Ivy. “I’ll be back here, once I’ve got your friend back. Then if you need me to fight with you, I will.”
Even with her talisman sheathed, she carried herself like a warrior. With Ivy on my team, maybe there was still a chance.
I nodded. “Sure. Thanks for helping me out.”
“Any time.”
As she left, I stayed on the path, but walked deeper into the forest, away from any listening ears.
“Hey,” I whispered to the sceptre, pulling it from my pocket. “I need to talk to you.”
My throat was dry. I didn’t know its name—didn’t know whose power filled the sceptre. Only that it wanted me to wield it, and all that remained of its consciousness lived here… within me.
And it’d be really pissed off with what I’d chosen to do.
A chill raced down my back, a response. Conscious… but not exactly like a voice. More a presence. Magic shivered up my arms, and a faint blue glow ignited at the sceptre’s end.
“I’m trapped,” I said in a low voice. “Either my mother will get you, or the Summer Court will. You don’t want either, do you?”
The talisman’s magic rose around me in a cloud of blue light.
I took a deep breath. “I want to make a deal.”
Chapter 22
As I’d arranged with Robin, Denzel met me at the forest’s entrance after Ivy had left.
“This had better be good,” he said, clip-clopping over the undergrowth. “This place is creepy as hell. What do you want?”
“You to hang onto this,” I told him, holding out the sceptre. “Give it to Ivy when she wakes up.”
“What?” He blinked, his brow furrowing as though he thought I was mocking him.
“Take it,” I repeated. This time, his jaw dropped, like it’d sunk in that I was serious. “Don’t steal it or try to sell it. I’ll know.”
“What…? I don’t even know who this Ivy person is.”
“Robin will take you to her.”
“Robin’s a ghost,” he said. “You didn’t want to mention that part? How did he die?”
“Lady Whitefall,” I told him. “My evil mother wants the talisman, so you won’t tell anyone you’re holding it. Ivy’s off on important business, but you’ll give her the talisman. If you don’t… Let’s just say some of the legends about faerie talismans are true.”
“You’re creepy as they are now,” he muttered.
“Believe me, I’m not,” I said. “Think of it as a favour for all those shiny trinkets you swiped from my room when you thought I wasn’t looking.”
“Hey—I didn’t. Raine, I swear I never—”
Too late. I’d left him behind, hurrying through the trees to half-blood territory. Robin would watch him—I’d ensured that, at least. But it was time for the less-than-fun part of my trip.
The part where I handed myself in.
I still didn’t know if I was making the right decision. But life didn’t come with dress rehearsals. You had to hope that if you made the wrong choice, you could handle the fallout. Even if the best-case scenario prevailed, I’d be kicked out of Faerie. I had little left to lose.
Sure enough, three figures on horses were patrolling half-blood territory. I’d figured there was a possibility the Summer Court had sent a patrol here on the off-chance I’d show up.
They were on me before I got within ten metres of them. As the three horsemen turned around, their magic rippled through the air, wrapping around my legs, holding me in place.
Justice—what passed for it in Faerie—had come for me at last.
“Well,” said the first messenger, a bronze-skinned male knight riding a jet black steed. “What do we have here?”
Green light swirled around all four of us. The messenger Sidhe didn’t move—instead, the world came towards us, the fields of Faerie replacing half-blood territory in a mere flash of green light.
I coughed on the smell of burning as we landed in the meadow the explosion had wrecked—my magic had wrecked. Of course I wouldn’t recognise its unique scent, because I’d been carrying the magic inside me for weeks.
Vines appeared from the air, binding my hands, leaving my legs free so I could walk. I didn’t resist, as much as I wanted to. This was part of my plan. And without my magic, her plan would fall apart.
A chill raced down my back. My power… or the world.
My connection with Cedar… or the safety of the people I loved.
I’m sorry, Cedar. I’m so sorry.
He’d handed himself over to the enemy. And now I was about to take away the one advantage we had left.
With the others, I headed for the Summer Court—and my fate.
The Summer contingent summoned up another flash of magic, which took us to a path fringed with leafy plants. A gate at the end made of thorny stems opened at a command from one of the messengers, and a grassy hill blurred around us as though the world had spun into fast-forward.
The assault of Summer magic on my senses pressed against my body, and we landed in front of the doors to a vast palace. Oak doors opened into a hall shining with opulence—golden ornamental flowers seemed to be the main feature
, though there were a fair few banks of real flowers growing inside, too. A piskie flew past, pulling my hair, as the messengers pushed me to my knees on the doorstep.
A tall Sidhe warrior walked out from behind a tapestry on the wall, eyeing me coldly. “What’s this? A Winter half-blood?”
I remained still. The warrior wore golden armour that matched the hall. His skin was deeply tanned, his eyes bright green. A noble Sidhe with powerful magic.
“Whitefall,” said the messenger, in disgusted tones. “We finally caught her.”
“Indeed,” said the Sidhe. “One of you inform the Seelie King’s advisers. I’ll deal with her myself.”
“Excuse me, Lord Kerien,” said the messenger. “Don’t you want us to assemble for a trial?”
“We have more important things to concern ourselves with.”
“Finally one of you sees sense,” I muttered.
A sharp silence. “What was that?” said Lord Kerien. “Another insolent half-blood, of course.”
My body lurched forward of its own accord as a wrenching tug dragged me to my feet. Aspen’s vow. “He’s here—” I cut off in a gasp.
Dad stood behind Lord Kerien. He stepped towards me, staring like I was a ghost, and the vow clutched at my chest, demanding I kill him.
“Get him out!” I shouted. “I’m under a compulsion—I can’t stop—”
My body froze. Green light shone from the floor, locking my limbs in place. “No magic enters here without my permission,” said Lord Kerien. “You didn’t mention this, half-blood.”
“She’s my daughter,” said Dad.
He knew these guys? Of course he’d been from a major Seelie family, but of all the times to show up, he just had to pick now.
“Dad,” I said through gritted teeth. “Get out. You know if they let me go, the vow will make me kill you.”
He looked at me sadly, then at the others. “I wish to plead on my daughter’s behalf.”
What? No. What he was playing at, I had no idea. He was essentially a stranger to me, a stranger who looked like a more polished version of the father I’d taken care of all my life. My stomach twisted with guilt for wanting him to leave, for cursing him for showing up now rather than letting me go ahead with my plan before Lady Whitefall found out.
“For what?” queried Lord Kerien. “She broke our laws and killed a Sidhe. You might have our blood in your veins, but you are still half-blood. You will not speak for her.
“Lady Whitefall kept me captive and made me forget who I am,” said Dad. “She stole me from the heart of your Court. She’s been stealing from you for a long time… as has Lady Hornbeam. She was not guiltless, and had her own designs on your Court. My daughter stopped her.”
“Lady Hornbeam is not the one who is on trial,” said the Sidhe.
“But would she be? You let her live, out of fear, knowing what she was capable of. It wouldn’t have been long until she staged a coup.”
“Because of my magic,” I said. “She could have used it to take the Court—exactly the same as my mother’s plan, if she’d taken my magic from me.” I willed him to take the bait.
“You needn’t concern yourself with that,” said Lord Kerien. “Magic will be stripped from you at exile.”
“Then let me offer my own magic,” said Dad.
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “Take mine—I’ll willingly give it up. But—I want to bargain with you about exile. It seems pointless to send me into the Vale when my mother’s waiting there to recruit me to fight the Courts. Send me to her and it won’t change a thing. Kill me, and you’re doing her job for her.”
“You think you’re in a position to bargain?” said the Sidhe in a soft voice.
“I saved your necks. That means you owe me a debt—all of you. I saved you from Aspen.”
I was sure at least one of them had been there in the battle. Lord Kerien looked coldly down at me, then at the others. “She is correct. We cannot kill her, and as for exile—her mother might be counting on that very outcome.”
“She’s a criminal,” said one of the others. “A murderer.”
“Her magic is the cause. Take it from her and it will not cause any problems. She’s a lowly half-blood, doubtless not long for this world anyway.”
Despite myself, a flicker of anger stirred. I tamped it down. Play along…
“So be it,” said the messenger. “She’s not worth calling in the whole Court. Just another pathetic mortal.”
“Very well,” said Lord Kerien. “You will not be exiled from the Courts… but the price I ask for is your magic. If I’m right in thinking the same magic is what destroyed our territory?”
I swallowed. “Yeah. It was.” My heart fluttered. They’d—unintentionally—offered me a lifeline. Did they know? With the Sidhe, it was impossible to tell. If I was exiled… I had a backup plan.
And it relied on the Sidhe being as oblivious to my real magic as almost everyone I’d met had been.
“I have one question,” I told Summer’s representatives. “When you remove my magic, will it remove the vow I’m under, too?”
“Vows are a different type of magic entirely,” said Lord Kerien. “But vows are also sealed in magic, and when yours is removed, it’ll reset you to the human you should have been.”
Should have been, huh. I barely concealed my smile. I’d been right. Thanks for giving me the idea, mother.
Then he spoke, loud and clear, words I didn’t know but that resonated with me on some deep level all the same. My father shouted my name.
Magic roared in my veins, objecting to being torn free, and I screamed, too. Mine. Mine. Mine. The voice pounded in my head, no longer sounding like mine but something else’s—a scream of pure rage, echoing through an abyss. Pain splintered up my arms, and I screamed my throat raw, certain I wouldn’t survive the pain.
I’d been spared death, but losing my magic was going to kill me anyway.
Cold emptiness beckoned, and I fell into the dark.
* * *
Dad was holding me when I woke up. We lay on a meadow of soft grass under a sky of periwinkle blue. Definitely a dream. Nothing like this had ever happened in my mundane mortal life. He’d never looked at me like he was the parent and I was the child. For as long as I could remember, I’d had to take care of both of us. He’d never stroked my hair and told me bedtime stories to make the demons—or faeries—go away.
The smell of Summer, though… that was new.
Reality crashed on me like a freight train, and I jumped away from him. My body didn’t feel like mine, my legs clumsy, my hands shaky. If I’d been reborn when I’d picked up the talisman, I felt like I’d been reset to factory settings. And everything hurt.
Cedar’s healing magic was gone. So was our connection. Maybe forever.
I squeezed my eyes shut. It was for the best. She couldn’t use us as a double-edged sword. And she’d never see me coming.
“Raine.” Dad looked at me. “I’m sorry—I can explain everything.”
I sank onto the meadow next to him. “I’m okay, Dad.”
Without the sceptre’s magic, my body felt… lighter. Like a weight had disappeared from my shoulders. Of course, it might have been the absence of the price on my head. Summer and I were square, for all the good it did.
“That awful magic,” he said. “I’m glad it’s gone, but you can’t go back to her. If she finds out—”
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.” I looked at him. “It’s okay. They didn’t take anything I didn’t intend to give away.”
I looked him in the eyes, willing him to see the truth. My hypnosis magic. The default magic binding me to Faerie, which made me who I was, and helped me survive this pain. The magic I understood now, more than I had before.
The magic I could hide. After all, I’d gone so long without knowing it existed, letting it fade to the background was second nature. No vow I’d made was bound to this magic. It was mine.
“It’s like hers,”
he said softly. “Of course.”
Those simple words hurt me more than they had a right to. I stood again. “Sure I am. Just like her.”
He rose to his feet, catching my sleeve. “Raine, that’s not what I meant. You’re not like her—you’re better, the best parts of her, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t give you the life I wanted to.” He blinked, tears in his eyes. “I can’t go with you. This is the only place where Aspen can’t use my magic. It’s thanks to you that he left without me.”
A lump grew in my throat. “Dad, no offence, but I’m still not a hundred percent sure I’m actually talking to my father. I feel like I don’t know you.”
“I’d like to know you,” he said, with a tentative smile. “And I do. I remember how brave you were. How much you risked to help me. I wish I could have been the father you needed.”
“I don’t understand why she made you human,” I said. “And—you never had magic in my visions of our past.”
“I agreed to it,” he said. “For you. I didn’t need anything else.”
I closed my eyes, then opened them again. “She brainwashed you. You know that, right? She took you away, put you under her spell, and abandoned both of us when it suited her.”
“She did,” he said. “But I think she was misguided. She loved both of us.”
“She’s an amoral power-hungry Sidhe,” I said, my voice rising. “She doesn’t know or understand love, not the way mortals do. She left me believing my whole life that she broke you. You nearly died when your memories almost came back. I blamed myself for it all. I can’t—I can’t accept this is real. I just can’t.”
He stood awkwardly. He looked younger, as though the weight of years had fallen away with his humanity. With the years of living a lie. I’d thought the invasion was the reason he had no family, no photographs in the house.
“I’m real, Raine,” he said, softly. “I’m your father. And I’m so very proud of what you’ve achieved.”
“What, murdering a Sidhe?” I dropped my voice. “You nearly ruined my plan. Besides, I don’t understand what unlocked your memories in the first place, much less why you decided to walk into Faerie and not tell me.”
Exiled Queen (The Thief's Talisman Book 3) Page 19